6/14/2006

10:41 AM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.

Currently the moon is in the waning Gibbous Moon phase (79% full).
It is currently 10:29 Pacific Time on Wed Jun 14 2006.
Currently in Saint Claire, it is a cloudy day. The temperature is 56 degrees Fahrenheit (13 degrees Celsius). The wind is currently coming in from variable directions at 5 mph. The barometric pressure reading is 30.03 and rising, and the relative humidity is 90 percent. The dewpoint is 53 degrees Fahrenheit (11 degrees Celsius.)

Big Red Barn(#3420RA)
The barn is built in the old style, a vast three level structure that is greater in height than a mere three stories, actually closer to five. Great wooden posts support the weight of the upper levels and roof, sunk into the hard-packed dirt floor of the first level like a sparse forest of regularly spaced, naked trees. The stalls and flagstones which once were here have been torn out to leave a rather open area where even crinos Garou may roam freely without fear of running into anything but the supports or the walls or the ladder at the back which allows access to the other two levels.
The first two levels are relatively open to each other, the second being only little wider than a catwalk going around all the walls but the front one, which has massive, twenty foot tall doors set into it. The third level is a true second floor except for a place cut out that allowed hay to be tossed down to the ground floor when the farm was actually worked. Now, it is a hayloft where Garou can sleep outside of the house.
Contents:
Stacey
Ruth
Obvious exits:
BarnYard  

Near the back of the barn comes the sound of the punchbag receiving attention- an irregular soft thump, accompanied by the protesting sqeak of the ring it hangs from.

Stacey opens the barn door and slips inside, holding it open for Kenneth to come in as well. "I really think this will work out well," she says, then falls silent as she looks toward the back. "Ruth?"

There's a louder thump, a soft grunt, and then a short silence. Ruth appears from around the punchbag, her hands lifting in a vain attempt to brush her heavy fringe from her hot forehead. "Stacey-rhya?"

Kenneth enters on the heels of Stacey, eyes traveling through the threshold and into the barn. The Shadow Lord squints past the dust, attention drawn to the sound of the punching bag and taking in the cub. The philodox maintains his evaluation in silence.

[look Ruth (homid)]
A caucasian girl somewhere in her mid-teens and barely into puberty, standing a little under five feet high. She is skinny rather than slim, with pale skin that speaks of too many days spent indoors and lacks even the distinction of freckles. Her hands are soft, with a pen callus and blue ink stains on the side of the right middle finger, and her fingernails are uneven. Her face is an unremarkable oval, with smallish brown eyes set beneath rather heavy brown eyebrows and looking out from behind a pair of steel-rimmed spectacles. Her nose is notable only in its lack of any obvious deviation from the average, and is set above a wide mouth and a rounded chin.
Her chestnut brown, shoulder-length hair has been dragged back into a reluctant and slightly straggly ponytail, with small whisps escaping to join the square-cut bangs that overhang her eyes. Her close-fitting blue T-shirt rather highlights her lack of conspicuous female attributes, and exposes a pair of skinny white arms and a Lion King watch. Her pale blue jeans are slightly worn, but neither torn nor frayed. They are plain and of comfortable cut, managing to hang onto her narrow hips without the aid of a belt. Her sneakers might have been white once, but are now vaguely dust-coloured. Like the jeans, they are neither new nor conspicuously tatty.

[look Kenneth (homid)]
Kenneth is an older teen, tall, lean and attractive. Just under 5'11", his build is untimidatingly muscled and highly athletic with clean lines and fair features. At first glance, he looks completely Asian, though closer scrutiny hints at a mixture of bloodlines both Western and Eastern. Despite his good looks, a cold distance in his demeanor keeps him apart.
Kenneth dresses well in a way that looks almost like a uniform, looking comfortable in his chosen wear, all of which sport are new and structured well in cut and simple design. A grey button-down shirt is left partly loose at the collar, coupled with a pair of fitting dark khaki slacks and oxford-like shoes. On colder days, he has a black, inner-lined long coat which serves as protection from the weather.

Stacey smiles and moves farther inside, approaching the cub. "I'd like you to come meet the one I've chosen to teach you the ways of a Philodox." She glances once to Kenneth, then back to the cub.

Ruth nods wordlessly, bending forward for a few seconds with her hands braced on her knees, to catch her breath, then comes forwards. "Uh... hello Kenneth-rhya. I suppose you know who I am already?"

Kenneth follows after the Coggie elder again, meeting the cub somewhere halfway. He inclines his head in response to the query. "A little, but you should introduce yourself fully to those of higher rank." He holds out a hand, looking professional about it. "Kenneth Kingston, also called Far-Cry. Cliath Philodox of the Shadow Lords." The halfmoon only breaks eyecontact with Ruth to cast a fleeting glance towards her elder, and then it's back on the cub.

Stacey gives a small smile as Kenneth introduces himself, looking pleased about something, but then nods to the cub, indictating that she should give what intro she has as well.

Ruth shakes hands a little uncertainly, and doesn't meet Kenneth's gaze for more than a few moments before dropping her eyes. "Ruth Carpenter, Trips-Over-Paws, Philodox cub of the Children of Gaia." She looks up again, smiling slightly with recognition. "You're the same Tribe as Vera-rhya?"

His opinion withheld at least by expression, Kenneth nods. "The same," he replies, simple and straightforward. Then he scans the barn again, reflectingly. "What do you think you'll learn from me? And what do you think your elder expects you to learn?"

Stacey smiles at the cub as she gives the introduction, then takes a small step back, observing them, but keeping quiet as Kenneth interviews the cub.

Ruth's brow creases faintly, eyebrows dipping below the rim of her glasses as she thinks. "More about the Laws... more about how they apply in different situations. What punishments are appropriate if people break them. And... and I hope quite a lot about, mediating and stopping people /before/ they break the Laws." She looks betwen Kenneth and Stacey. "And, uh, well, how to do things so people see it's fair."

Kenneth makes an acknowledging noise, running a hand through his hair. His words stray back towards Stacey, asking, "You taught her the Litany already? And the Creeds?"

Stacey looks faintly surprised by the answer, as well as a bit proud of it. At Kenneth's question, she gives a small nod. "She knows the Litany. Although she could use more instruction in the Creeds."

Ruth glances between the others as they talk. "Um... so what now?" she asks when they finish speaking, looking both curious and vaguely worried.

"Now?" Kenneth echoes, taking steps forward and shifting with not a second thought into his warform. Black fur and white fangs sprouting in a matter of seconds while his clothes melt away, the crinos gauges the girl from an even taller height. ~Tell me of the laws of our kind, the Garou.~

[look Far-Cry (crinos)]
Swathed in liquid night, this wolven beast's powerful and terrifying warform rises far above to over a man and a half's worth of height, adorned with curving scythes of sharp ebon and pearl for claw and fang. With every step, the obsidian fur shifts and shines with the lure of ethereal darkness, drawing eyes in with an almost magnetic aura. Pale, furless scars stand out on the massive body of the dark Crinos: two large, furless puncture scars blossom from the shoulder and the other just off the center of his torso, matched with points of entry on his back. The creature's own golden eyes burn like manifested wells of vengeful wrath granted to him from the divine - an executioner of Gaia's will.

Stacey looks between the two, then smiles. "Unless I'm needed, I'm going to slip back to the Farmhouse and check on Kristin. And get things ready for lunch." Ruth gets another reassuring smile, and then the elder starts to turn away.

Ruth takes an involuntary step back as the Shadow Lord rises into the war-form, catching herself and stopping but not returning to her previous position. Her brow crinkles at the sound of the High Tongue. "Uh... speak. Um. Law. Garou?" she says, questioningly.

Far-Cry's ears flatten in disappointment. Then the halfmoon turns towards Stacey, muzzle lowering slightly to bid her a short farewell. Even so, he notes aloud, ~She does not know much of the Mother Tongue yet, does she.~ Golden eyes turn back to the young cub, and he calmly reverts to a midway form of Glabro. The humanesque features return, at least partly. "Take the Glabro form. You will learn the Litany in the Garou language."

Stacey gives a faint smile, glancing back at the cub. "She is learning. I work with her when I can..." And then she walks out of the barn, heading to the house.

Ruth bites her lower lip, and gives Stacey an apologetic look as the Elder departs. "Sorry, Stacey-rhya. I have been practicing," she adds, for Kenneth's benefit. She takes a long look at the other philodox her manner becoming strangely detached- regarding him much as someone might look at an abstract statue. Then she closes her eyes, frown deepening, until eventually, long moments later, her form blurs and ripples, muscles working under the skin, body swelling upwards.

Kenneth curls and uncurls his fingers beside him and then clenches them into a loose fist. "At our sept's moots, in the beginning there is the Calling of the Litany. That is where the sept hears our laws, and hears the Fool's argument to weaken our traditions, to break them like glass and leave them in scattered pieces in our minds. Even though a galliard calls out the laws, it's the philodox who holds them together. Thirteen laws, but as many interpretations as the stars, say the ragabash. It is the halfmoon's duty to find the balance between true purpose and fluff excuses." He looks upon the cub. "Get it?"

Ruth alternates looking at Kenneth with looking at her hands, running them down her arms, turning them this way and that so that the tendons play under the skin. As he finishes speaking she tilts her head a little to one side, her thoughtful frown looking somewhat intimidating than in her Homid form. "Some of it," she says, slowly. "Um... a moot is... a meeting? Like the Saxons used to have?"

"Yes, a meeting," Kenneth answers with his tone growing tight for a moment. He leaves that hanging for a few seconds longer and then elaborates, "But there're bigger things happening there. For one, we recharge the power of the caern, and renew the relationship between us and the caern's patron, Chimera. If something's messed up, she lets us know. That is the sept moot, and there are customs to it that should be followed. You'll learn those eventually. First, you will learn to speak our laws in the Mother Tongue." His words suddenly take a turn for the gutteral, a mixture between growls and intonation, as well as gesture. It seems less alien in a humanoid form, but nonetheless animalistic. ~This one.~

The older Half Moon has Ruth's full attention now, and she nods. ~Know little,~ she manages. ~Learn big,~ she adds wryly, with a gesture of her hands indicating some large quantity.

~Learn fast, because I don't repeat often.~ The Shadow Lord draws in a deep breath, and goes into the laws in full, not stopping except where there is indicated a separation between laws in the Litany. Overall, he makes but twelve pauses and stops any interruption should there be one with a look to wait until he is finished. In the Garou Tongue, it's harsher sounding for those who are used to flowing human speech. However, bits and pieces make some sense. "Those are the laws of the Litany. To be followed to the letter, but evaluated as any." He then fades to expectant quiet, awaiting questions.

Ruth's hands hunt through her pockets as she listens, and then creep together in front of her and she starts picking at her nails. Instead of asking about the content of the litany itself, she hesitantly repeats a few words, checking that she's got the translation correct.

Kenneth's eyes narrow as he recites the laws and sees the cub getting distracted. He doesn't remain on the technique of pronunciation though, and moves forward once Ruth has repeated a few clippets. Or rather, backwards in time. "Litany. Origins of it. Tell me about them." He stares as mercilessly as a teacher giving a pop quiz.

"Origins?" Ruth asks in English, startled. "Oh..." Her face becomes a mask of concentration. "Nobody's told me yet. Um. I could, um, guess a few?" She asks it as if /guessing/ might possibly be a crime in itself."

If guessing is a crime, then Ruth is judged and convicted. "What's the point of knowing laws if you don't know where they came from?" Kenneth asks sharply, turning to pace in a slow line back and forth, drill sergeant like. Then he stops, and carefully eyes the girl over. "Who follows the Litany?"

Ruth's eyes flash angrily, but her half-formed words are swallowed unsaid. She takes a deep breath, and then lets it out. Then, in tones that are mostly reasonable, if faintly coloured with frustration, "Kenneth-rhya, I can't know more than I've heard before and been able to work out from that. I've been asking everybody questions, but mostly they've been too busy fighting the Wyrm to teach. Stacey-rhya said she'd asked you to teach me, not to tell me off for not having been taught already."

Kenneth draws himself to a full height, dark eyes seemingly getting darker. "The questions are rhetorical, and at the same time, they aren't," he replies to the girl. "My questions are not just to get you to spit information back out at me. I'm letting you think. If you don't know, then you don't know. Just say it. There will be someone who does, and you can ask them, and they will teach you or you can find someone else." He takes a few steps closer to the cub. "I'll be straight with you. There will never be a time that we aren't 'too busy' fighting the Wyrm."

Ruth's lip wobbles, and she looks away, gritting her teeth angrily. After another pause, she nods, and finds her voice again, a rather smaller voice than that of her previous outburst. "'kay. That's why I want to learn. Because I should be able to help as well, not to have to be sent away and looked after while other people /die/." Crossly, she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "Do some of the Laws come from, from what wolves do?"

Kenneth halts his approach, still a decent distance from actual reach. "Some, maybe," he answers with a glance towards the punching bag. The Shadow Lord travels to it, placing a hand upon the battered canvas. "But the origins are in the history of the Garou themselves. Garou do not mate with Garou, because some time ago, we were charged with looking after and caring for our Kinfolk. Humans who share our blood, wolves as well. Imagine if we were able to breed amongst ourselves. What would become of the humans? What about our wolf kin? That is one reason the metis are cursed with being unable to have children of their own. The Garou take it as an affront to Gaia, when a metis is born. Some tribes... will kill the metis cubs straight off. No questions asked. Others... not so eager to. Such as your own." He looks back at Ruth, calmer this time.

Ruth follows the other philodox across the room, tension visibly leaving her as the he speaks. "And whether they do or not is part of how the Litany is interpreted? So would most of a Tribe think the same way about one of the Laws?"

"That is where the Philodox come in," Kenneth turns to fully face the other halfmoon. "Garou will bicker, argue and rage over what the laws really mean, but in matters of our lawkeeping, the Philodox are the speakers for Gaia's will. When a Philodox says this is the law, those listening should abide by it. If they don't, they risk angering or offending someone - maybe someone even worse to offend than just the halfmoon who said they should act one way. The question is, how many philodox think the same way about the same law? And that answer is found in the differences between the tribes. My tribe... we do not stand for those who cannot follow the laws. However, we know that each situation is not without unique reasons."

Ruth gropes behind her for a bale of hay, glances around just long enough to locate one, and backs off enough to sit down. Other than that one glance, her eyes remain glued on Kenneth.

"Every law has its beginnings. Our Litany begins when a Grand Council of Elders got together, coming from all parts of their known world, and deciding on these laws to keep us in check. When this was, is up to the galliard you hear the story from. I heard it was to decide the end of the Impergium - the times when Garou had no Veil, and culled the humans who were not fit the same way wolves cull herds of prey." He shrugs, clearing his throat deeply. "The Litany is followed by the Garou Nation, and the tribes within it." He pauses a moment, then proposes, "But imagine what those who weren't invited, or those who couldn't go, were doing and thinking. Is it fair to say they should follow our rules?" He turns this question over to the cub, brows arching.

Ruth tucks a foot up onto the bale as she thinks, looping long arms around her shin. "People elect a government, but the people who voted for someone else still have to follow the laws made by the party that gets in," she says. "Laws are... I mean they should be... what keeps people together. If they're good laws, it's stupid to disagree with them just because you didn't make them yourself."

Kenneth gestures in agreement. "The law is there for your benefit. It is there to protect what we value. Those who do not follow our Litany, have no reason or right to live with us." His lips thin at this and he gazes back at the punching bag, going quiet for a long moment.

Ruth opens her mouth to say something, shuts it again, shifts impatiently, and opens her mouth again. "This Impergium... Garou killed peop... humans?"

Kenneth glances back to the girl. "Yes, they did," he answers simply, though leaving room for additional questions. "It is the reason they fear us, and why when they see us, the Delirium takes over their minds. People remember, deep down."

"And are there Garou in the Garou Nation who aren't in a Tribe," Ruth asks, her question skipping further back through the teacher's words.

"There are. They're called Ronin. The ones who have been punished by exile," the Shadow Lord answers stiffly. Kenneth glances back to the cub. "I hear Grey was one. Though I don't suggest you ask him lightly."

Ruth lifts a shoulder in a half shrug, one corner of her mouth twitching downwards. "I don't think I'd better ask him at all until after Clemency-rhya's Gathering," she remarks.

Kenneth withholds his immediate reply, lightly thudding a fist against the side of the punching bag. "Your tribemate, the other cub. What was her name?"

"Kristin," ~Fears-Pain,~ Ruth manages the Lupus name in the Garou tongue. ~Crescent moon.~

Ah yes. Kenneth's lip corner twists in a faint mix of a smirk, a sneer and a smile wrapped up similar to the Mona Lisa. When he turns back to the cub, though, he is back to the straight-lined expression of his. "What else do you know of the Litany?"

Ruth pulls a face that is something like an unamused half smile. "That some garou think it's against the Litany for two Garou the same, uh, sex to mate, and others don't." Her voice hardens. "And some Philodox think that the punishment for breaking the First Laws should be death and torture... not in that order though, I suppose," she adds unnecessarily.

"To offend Gaia by breaking the first law," Kenneth responds quite quickly, "is to put us /all/ in danger. Those who decide to birth a metis into this world do more than just have sex because their so-called love for another Garou takes priority over the defense of the caern and Gaia. They endanger themselves - the mother who births the mule does so in Crinos. They endanger the Garou who must care for the cub if they so choose, because a metis cub is born in crinos and stays that way for years until their first change. They endanger the Veil, and so endanger our laws of the Veil. They endanger the caern, by bringing in a potentially offensive thing into its boundaries and angering the spirits. You see what I'm getting at? When there is breaking of one law, there are ripples in all the others."

Ruth nods. "I understand that part. And I can see that it shouldn't be a different law just because there couldn't be a metis. But I don't see yet what it would be best to do afterwards. Because... what you want afterwards is Garou who can still fight together." She shrugs. "And for the people who broke the Law not to do it it again, of course. Which killing them would do, but then maybe something else would work just as well and mean they'd still be alive to fight."

Kenneth narrows his eyes at the cub, thoughts being churned through. "If you mean Basil and Kevin," he growls out roughly, "... A Bone Gnawer who slacks off and never comes to moots despite his duties as an ahroun, and a Walker whose /girlfriend/ waits patiently for him to return to her, gettin' it on simply because they don't think that anyone 'understands' them like they do each other. If you mean that low-life and my ex-packmate... they deserved their fate. Gaia's mercy spared their lives in the tireyard. They should be grateful they get the chance to redeem themselves." That seems to be enough for the Shadow Lord on the subject, as he turns abruptly and heads for the barn door, stalking towards it and shifting down as he walks back to his breed form. "It's gettin' on in the afternoon. You should go get lunch."

Ruth gives Kennth a long look, then dips her head. "Thank you, Kenneth-rhya. I've talked to them both, and I'm making up my own mind about what they've said. It's..." she ponders her choice of words... "useful to get your opinion as well. And thank you for the lesson." A small but genuine smile lights her face. "It's nice to get a proper lesson about philodox things at last." Obedient to the half-moon's last statement, she gets to her feet and remembers to shift back to her birth form.

Kenneth opens the door to the barn with a creaking slide, revealing the bright afternoon, despite the clouded skies. "Later. I'll ask you to repeat the Litany, the way it should be told," he says as his reply, neutral in overtone. "Check in with Stacey and let her know I'll be around." Then he departs with a turn towards the woods, a hand tossed up in a mild sign of farewell. He leaves the barn door open for her to close behind her, should she leave.

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